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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29288862">Magical apple</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaalismyhusband/pseuds/jaalismyhusband'>jaalismyhusband</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Flirting, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Strangers to Lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:47:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29288862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaalismyhusband/pseuds/jaalismyhusband</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chris Evans (Actor)/Reader, Chris Evans (Actor)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Magical apple</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You were working as a professor at the local university. You always knew, that forcing students to attend your classes was no way to make them like you and actually listen. No, you had to engage with them outside of the class too. So, you focused not only on the lectures, but on the out-of-school activities as well. That meant organizing some charity work, workshops, debates with interesting people and so on.</p><p>To say you were shocked when you booked Chris Evans for one of the debates, would be an understatement. You were even more nervous than your students, but you couldn’t let it show.  Being the ever-supporting professor, you reassured them that they will do just fine, because they were your smart students after all. They seemed to relax a bit at that.</p><p>Encouraged, you all went to greet Mr. Evans and you offered him a coffee, which he was quick to accept. You could sense he was upset about something, but it wasn’t your place to ask him what’s wrong. Soon after your interaction, he was ushered on the stage by another professor, who shoved a microphone in his hand, wishing him good luck.</p><p>The lecture went splendidly, now it was time for an autograph session, where students could get their own three minutes with Mr. Evans. One of your colleagues announced it and students were quick to form a line.</p><p>It seemed like it went on and on for hours, but Mr. Evans was somehow still polite to every single person. Even if the questions were repetitive, he answered them with patience. You were near him, just in case he needed something. However, you were a single woman as well, so from time to time your eyes may or may not have lingered on him longer, than they should’ve.</p><p>You mentally scolded yourself and focused on the actual questions he was being asked. You were proud of your students for coming up with the interesting, difficult, philosophical and even some weird questions. Thankfully, they hadn’t asked about personal things, until they did. The line was coming to an end and now it was mostly students from other classes, even other schools. You could tell those questions were bothering Mr. Evans and it was only adding to his frustration.</p><p>“Next!” you called. There was only one person left, a young girl.</p><p>“Finally!” she huffed as she came up to Mr. Evans. “So, I don’t have time for you, I only want you to give my number to Tom Holland.” With that she dropped a piece of paper on the table in front of him, turned on her heels and left. Without saying hi, please or bye. He looked almost frozen as he tried to take in what had just happened. You wanted to comfort him somehow, but his manager had already asked to follow him. You watched them leave next door, where you had previously set up a kind of a break room for him.</p><p>An idea popped up in your mind. You went to your cabinet and made him a fresh coffee. You were impatient and excited to have only as much as five minutes alone with him. You poured the coffee in the take-it-to-go cup and hurried to the next room. Just as you neared the door, they opened and you saw his manager leave, meaning you would, indeed, be alone with him. <em>Perfect</em>, you thought as you entered.</p><p>He was leaning back in the chair, with his hair all fluffy. Your eyes ran over his face, finding his brows adorably scrunched above his closed eyes, his beard trimmed neatly. A cozy looking blue sweater hid his muscled torso and the dark jeans hugged his thighs, rushing bunch of sinful thoughts through your mind.</p><p>“Are you going to say something or just keep staring?” his deep voice startled you from your daydream. You mumbled a quick apology and tried to hide the creeping blush on your face.</p><p>“Mr. Evans, I noticed your first coffee went cold, so I thought I’d make you a fresh one.” You offered him a warm smile along with the cup.</p><p>“Y/N, right? Thanks, that’s very considerate of you. And, please, call me Chris.” You swore he winked at you just before bringing the cup to his mouth, taking a sip of the steamy beverage. You felt your face heating up again and you squirmed under his gaze.</p><p>Leaning on the wall, you let him enjoy his coffee in silence. You used the moment to gather all molecules of bravery in you to ask him: “I don’t mean to be nosy, but you seemed distressed earlier…”</p><p>“You mean even before that cherry on top of the autograph session? I guess, I’m not as good of an actor as I thought I was.” You appreciated him trying to lift the mood, but something about his face expression told you, he didn’t want you to let it go.</p><p>“No need to put on a brave face, here. I’ll tell you what, Chris. There’s a really nice park near here. Aaand I’ve been told I’m a good listener. So, what do you say to a walk? If you don’t mind me being so forward, of course.” You seemed to realize your words too late, as they already hung heavy in the air. You just asked THE Chris Evans out. An unnerving silence occurred as you awaited his answer.</p><p>“Why the hell not,” he sighed.</p><p>“Perfect,” you smiled at him. “Let me just get my things and I’ll meet you outside in 5.” With that you left, still unable to believe you were about to hang out with literally a man of your dreams.</p><p>As promised, you joined him in front of the building and led him to the park. You spent those few minutes getting to know each other a little bit and, if you weren’t any wiser, you would have said that Chris was flirting with you.  </p><p>You arrived to the park, taking a stroll, admiring the blooming flowers. It was a warm spring afternoon, summer was just around the corner. You arrived to a small secluded spot with a table and benches on either side.</p><p>“This is where I spend my lunch breaks. It’s my special place.” You smiled, reminiscing of all the times you got lost in a book, ate your favourite food, hell, even cried over bad days in this very spot.</p><p>“I’m honoured,” joked Chris. You playfully smacked his arm and ordered him to sit down. He caught you off guard when he chose a seat next to you, rather than the opposite one.</p><p>“I can’t tell you how many bad days have been eliminated here. This place is indeed magical. You wanna try?”</p><p>“Sure.” He proceeded to tell you about his rough past days. As you were listening, you found yourself hanging on every word he said, you seemed almost bewitched by his soothing voice. You didn’t have to force yourself to listen, you simply did. It was so easy to get lost in the conversation with him, even though it wasn’t about pleasant topic.</p><p>“Sometimes, I just want to be an ordinary person like everyone else and not have to deal with people like that girl, for example. Gosh, I don’t know why, but that really got under my skin.” He finished his rant and you reassured, that it’s fine to feel that way.</p><p>“That girl was probably just the breaking point, I wouldn’t fuss ‘bout her. Here,” you reached into your bag and pulled out an apple, “this will make you feel better.” You placed it in front of him, and nudged him to take a bite.</p><p>“An apple?” he burst out laughing. Your cheeks were hot by now, no doubt.</p><p>“It’s a… Magical apple?” that only seemed to make him laugh more, as he leaned back in his seat, touching his chest. If you weren’t upset about him laughing at your offering, you would’ve found the gesture cute.</p><p>It was a yummy looking apple, though. <em>If he isn’t going to eat it, then I will</em>, you thought as you reached for the apple. However, he must’ve changed his mind, because he, too, reached for it, making your hands touch. You felt like in a scene from a romcom, as you felt a spark when your fingers brushed against each other.</p><p>You were too flustered to say anything, when he gave you a heart-melting smile. He seemed to lean in. <em>When did he get so close?!</em></p><p>“Chris…” you whispered, your mouth dry, all of a sudden. He shushed you and pecked your lips, leaving you even more flustered. Your ears were burning, and you immediately pulled your hands to cover your face, leaving the apple unguarded.</p><p>“Got it!” he triumphantly said and took a bite of the apple, exaggerating the moans: “Mhm, you said this was magical?”</p><p>“Not fair, sir! You used your charm to distract me!” you played along, pouting.</p><p>“Hm, you think I’m charming?” he seemed amused by how shy you were and how easy it was to get you flustered.</p><p>“Shut up, you know what I meant.” You huffed in defeat as you crossed your arms on your chest. Chris only smirked as he finished the apple.</p><p>After a while you shivered, the warm afternoon turned into a chilly night. Neither of you noticed, too enthralled in each other.</p><p>Chris didn’t miss how you hugged your arms, desperately trying to warm yourself up.</p><p>“You’re cold?” It was more a statement, than a question, but you still nodded, anyway. He took off his sweater, leaving him only in a plain white short-sleeve.</p><p>“Here, put it on.” He grabbed your arms, to pull them up, in order to dress you.</p><p>“No, really, it’s fine. You don’t have to do this.” You whined, but it fell on deaf ears. Chris dressed you in his sweater and you had no say in it. To be honest, you weren’t about to complain. Musky smell with hints of cedarwood engulfed you and you almost snuggled into the sweater more, but stopped yourself at the last moment, not wanting to be weird.</p><p>“Thanks,” you shyly said, as you took in his broad shoulders and big arms. Arms, that were totally bare, because of you.</p><p>“Ohmygod! You’ll get cold!” Without thinking you hugged him tightly, only for him to wrap his arms around your small frame.</p><p>“As long as you’re with me, I’ll never get cold,” he whispered into your hair, after he left a small kiss on your temple.</p>
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